Her name was Liza Jane
but she would only love you
until Tuesday.
“John, I’m only dancing” she’d cry
but she was a rebel –
she only brought you sorrow.

The starman was a space oddity.
He told you stories
of life on Mars
and caused the changes in you.
You were truly loving the alien.
“Hallo Spaceboy! You are my little wonder!”

1984 –
The beginning of the golden years.
The fame, the sound and vision
of the young Americans
in their blue jeans and
Don Johnson jackets
You were under pressure
whilst they were dancing in the street.

You crawled up the hill backwards
Right to the edges
of Suffragette city
where the cat people
became your heroes.
Then, you could only look back in anger
at the ones who crawled and slithered
over the breaking glass.

The beautiful China girl
was a truly modern love.
You had to admit that you
were both absolute beginners
in a fashion.
“Let’s dance under the moonlight”
I remember you said.

But, where are we now?
I look up to the stars
and I see that love is lost.
There is only one solitary black star
hanging bleakly in the poisoned sky.
And I can only dream
of the day you rise up again
like Lazarus.

Her eyes were the most beautiful he had ever seen – deep green with little flecks of gold dancing in the irises. He sighed deeply as he tightly screwed the lid on the jar and placed them on the shelf, alongside all the others.